Skyrim - The story of 8
by KuraiNoYuki
Summary: A story about 8 different characters in Skyrim, that, perhaps even come together at one point. Oh la la, spoiler?
1. Chapter 1

The Hunter - Jalik

Aurora's more vibrant than any torch could be on this waxing moon's night. One could easily tell the difference between shadows, clear enough to be early at night, not already way past the time of mud crab hunting time. It's around this time those that awaken are either miners, not human, or a hunter of some sort.

That would be the case of the certain individual, standing so proudly by the fresh kill of deer meat, pulling his arrow out. Cleaning the crafted metal before putting it back in the quiver, taking out his small dagger. Best to skin the dear quickly, before any wolves picked up on the scent of a fresh kill- they'd find something when he was done of course. A true hunter never wastes anything of the kill, and neither did he. He'd leave everything he couldn't and wouldn't eat; brains, eyeballs, guts. The skin would make for a good addition to the clothes he was making; perhaps even part of some armor.

A leather pouch of water is used to clean his hands and the dagger, before packing up and leaving the unwanted parts of the deer behind as he carried it back to his hut.

The hut was nothing special, crafted out of logs and different materials, close by the city where the weather wasn't too cold, but not exactly warm either. He needed those furs to stay warm in this city. Some torches up, combined with Horker fat to keep them burning better, stronger and brighter, damned wolves at least stayed away then.

It was standing on a few rocks, it actually made for a better base of the structure, inside was just one room which functioned as a bedroom, kitchen, living room and a bathroom- the bathroom was of course half inside, half outside. Washing was done inside, in the small wooden tub, with other certain business to be done outside.

He places down the fresh kill, adding a few wooden logs to the burning fire in center of the hut, with stones around it to make sure the fire didn't spread in his sleep. He prepares his meal, adding a bit of this and that for seasoning, before placing it on the fire. Ah~. Time to relax and grab a bottle of alto wine and sit back. He opens the bottle, inhaling the scent of the deer as he brings the bottle up, letting the contents flow into his mouth and swallowing it, feeling that soft burn of the alcohol inside of it. Today was a good day, then again, every day was a good day when one would catch a deer. They were becoming scarce around Greenspring Hollow, the new Jarl had issued out that Deer's were only to be hunted for his purpose alone, and anyone ever caught hunting one would be put to the block.

Well, that was all good and jolly, but what was the chance of anyone finding out about him, here, in the middle of Greenspring Hollow? There weren't any Whiterun guards here, after all. A few pokes to the deer above the fire, and several bottles of alto wine later, the deer was finally ready to be eaten.

He grabs his dagger, cleaning it first before starting to cut pieces of meat off, stuffing them into his own mouth and sighing softly in the delight of being able to eat like this. Curse that new Jarl, who did he even think he was? He was only Jarl because the Stormcloaks assigned him there, and not because he actually earned the position. He could see clearly that night, the raid on Whiterun with giant rocks of fire being fired off and destroying good buildings in the process. War, a huge waste of time if you had to ask the young hunter, why did they even? Ah, right, because of the banning of Talos, and therefor they rebelled against the Legion and any who sided with them, and they succeeded But the Legion was still around, scattered all over Skyrim here and there. He's seen patrols of them coming by, and some were even stupid enough to think he cared.

The deer was now eaten, bones picked clean and nothing but, yes, bones were left. His hand rubs over his stomach, slowly circling there as if to help his food digest, eyes cast up to the low ceiling of his wooden hut, before the grey blue colored hues slowly slid to the window he sat by. A good and quiet night, he really does enjoy the slow nights, with bright auroras and nothing but stars in the sky. His satiated face fell, when he heard the roar and took notice of the wings flapping, the majestic head- of a dragon! His eye gave a visible twitch as he was up on his feet in an instant. The dragon had still been pretty far away, but what if it decided to attack his little hut, just because it could?

But he thanked the gods softly, as he saw the majestic creature fly off again. Perhaps it had been a warning for some animals, or something simple as that? He hoped it was, he sure did. A sigh of relief finally, when he could see the dragon no more, just a little spot in the night sky as he rose from the seat by the window, walking to the small basin he keeps to clean himself with, when it was simply to cold to go outside.

He placed the metal shield against one of the low hanging shelves, now able to see his own reflection, but a bit distorted. Still, that was fine; he could see what he wanted to. He had been unlucky enough to find himself face to face with a pack of wolves- usually he'd been perfectly able to handle himself, but his bow had broken earlier, resulting in a swift trip back home, but sadly life wasn't that easy around these parts. They had attacked, and despite his fighting skills, he had gotten a pretty nasty wound on his face. Damned wolves and their sharp claws, as if their teeth weren't bad enough? But the wound was healed nicely, despite the scarring it was leaving behind, he could live with this. He never considered himself handsome, after all, there were plenty of Bosmer around Skyrim, and they all kind of looked pretty much the same to him. Even though he wore his hair a bit longer and in a ponytail, instead of the usual hairstyle that was in fashion for his race. His finger traced over the scarring tissue by his lip, seems like the hair there won't be growing back, either. He just simply let out another sigh before cupping the water in two hands, splashing his face several times.

He was a calm young Bosmer, preferring to live out on his own with as little happening as possible. The greatness of solitude~. He returns to his bed, bow and the quiver full of arrows close by, it was rarely safe enough to sleep without an eye open here.

Darkness took over rather quickly, his belly full of alto wine and deer, his bed warm as was his body now, with the only sounds to accompany him were that of the soft crackling fire and passive animals outside the hut.

Morning came too quickly, awakening with a start at the sound of a loud howl. Wolves, this close to home? He's up on his feet in an instant, his boots on and his weapons strapped to his body as he peers out of the window. The sun was only just rising, but through the rays of red and orange and yellow, he could still make out the large creature that was so close to his porch. His bow is grabbed, the arrow readied- what in the hell was that thing?- he pulls it back, reading it to fire, and he almost releases it, stopping only because he was awed by what was happening right there. The creature started to shrink, the black fur started to revert to human skin. And now, he saw no beast, but a man, knelt down by his porch, butt naked with arrows and wounds all over his body. Now was not the time for impulsive thinking, but ever cautious he slowly exited the hut, bow and arrow still ready for firing. 'Who are you?' Like his personality, his voice had something gentle and calm to it, despite the adrenaline already rushing through his body. `

The werewolf - Aenar

The aurora would be vibrant tonight, he could tell from the colors of the sky, and how clear it was this night. He'd been having a rough day, but that wasn't anything new. And he expected them to be, enjoyed them to be. Loved the thrill of it every day as he hunted vampires, it was the reason he joined the Dawnguard after all. He adjusted the straps on the sadly on his horse, before making sure his own Dawnguard uniform was on right and nothing had come loose. 'Make sure to heal yourself, you might get Sanguinare Vampirisor something, oh, and thank you for the help. Me and my wife will sleep better tonight.' This is what he did it for; he nodded to the couple, holding each other close, bit bloody but all in all fine. He had been tracking down this vampire, finding it close by this home of the couple that were being fed off without even knowing it.

His hand brushed down his beard for a few seconds, 'Sanguinare Vampiris?' Oh right, the disease one could get from vampires, and after a few days you'd turn into one. 'Ah, I'll be fine!' He said with laughter in his words, finally climbing onto the horse as he gave them a nod. 'Stay safe.' And he'd ride his horse off towards the sunset.

He'd be lying if he didn't feel like a truly amazing hero at that point, after all, he saved people and got to kill one of those vampires. He doesn't hate them as badly as Isran does, though. Ah, Isran, the fearless leader of the Dawnguard. Good man, bit black and white on his view of the world though, Aenar always wondered what exactly happened to him to make him hate vampires so much. But Aenar was just in it for the fighting, it's the only thing he's really good at. He'd been at the companions for a long time, but when it was clear that his enjoyment for fighting was a bit to much high spirited for them, he left, only to be contacted by Isran.

The werewolf - Aenar

The wind was blowing, a bit crisp but nothing to cold he couldn't handle, his armor was heavy but it kept him nice and warm as well. He ran a gloved hand through his short blond hair, sighing softly as he noticed he could see his own breath. He'd been riding for a while now, and the air around was getting colder, he could see some snow around in the trees as well.

But as there are vampire hunters who kill vampires, there are other kinds of hunters, and they hunt other sort of monsters. 'There he is!' And he was barely able to evade the arrow that came flying past him, sadly his horse wasn't as lucky, hit right in the throat as it fell, taking its rider with it. He tumbled down, rolling on before he's up again, drawing his crossbow. And there they were a group of Silver Hand warriors, their weapons ready and arrows pointed at him. 'Ah..' Aenar started as he scratched the back of his head. 'Can we not do this now, I was having such a good d-'. But his sentence couldn't be finished as he dodged another arrow.

Some people are just better fighters than others, but still, taking on a group of seven hunters wasn't something he'd be able to do barehanded. His crossbow was dropped and his roar was as fearsome as the form he was beginning to take on. The load roar that came from him was nothing like that of a man, dark hair growing all over his body as now a wolf, a werewolf stood in front of the seven hunters.

The battle had been gruesome, scratches here and there, some arrows sticking out of the hide from his fur covered body as he stammered along the way, trying to find someplace he could be safe for the next day, the sun was already rising and he felt oddly warm in the glow of the rising sun as he let out another low growl, before falling to his knees. His body started to revert, and once again he was a man, no longer a beast as he panted heavily, 'Who are you?' Was the sudden voice he heard, quickly turning around to be facing another man.


	2. Chapter 2

The vampire – Tristane & the High elf - Merandil

'The auroras are really bright tonight' Serana commented softly as her eyes were cast up to the bright night sky, both she and Tristane were on their horses, riding on one of the open horses, headed to Redwater Den to fill a chalice for Lord Harkon. But there was nothing but silence from Tristane, as her white eyes continued to stare forward, 'Ah, I'm sorry, you can't see.' Tristane's eyes finally moved, but only to roll at the female vampire beside of her. She wasn't one to speak often, a quiet and silent killer of the night, yes, which was exactly what she had always been. The gift Lord Harkon had given to her had only been an enhancement to her already existing dark self.

Serana gave a soft sigh, looking at the side of Tristane's face, the one who saved her from her imprisonment in Dimhollow Crypt. 'I can see differently. Speak no more of it.' Her voice finally said, cold much like her personality, but one would be a fool not to see there was a certain affection to the women beside of her, Serana. How else could she tolerate her presence when she could never tolerate any other, other than animals.

The rest of the journey was mostly done in silence, Serana had a habit of commenting on things she saw, simply because she has either never seen it before or because it was something she merely enjoyed seeing.

Eventually they arrived at what appeared an abandoned shack, something unfitting to hold something that sounds as important as the bloodstone chalice, but still, here they were. Serana made sure to check the map again, but Tristane was already off of her horse, approaching the shack. Her senses were different; they worked in a different way than those of non vampiric people with sight. She could sense a presence, and much like a bat, all things that make sounds were send to her in a series of sound waves she was able to pick up. There were two people there, their hearts beating in a normal pattern, and she was certain they had picked up on her and Serana's presence, but they were not readying for battle. Serana finally joined her side as they approached together, 'Ah, you must be here for the Skooma, you'll want to go downstairs.'

A simple shrug as the two female vampires did just that, opening the hatch and descending the stairs. A guard, well, that wasn't anything new, Tristane's fingers itched to grab onto him, sink her fangs into his neck and drain all the life from him right away.

But that was not how it was going to go. 'Keep your weapons to yourself, and we won't have any problems, you and I.' As he stepped away from the door to open it and allow entrance. Odd, either these people were simply to trusting, or there was something more going on here.

Nevertheless they headed in, only to find a small counter, barred for the desk helper's safety, and different little booths, not to mention the stench of the stoma that filled the room. Her lip curled up in disgust as she sighed heavily. 'How do you want to do this?' Serana asked her, as Tristane stepped up to the lady behind the counter. 'Good day, how may I help you?' After a few moments, Tristane was able to get a free sample for both herself and Serana. Might as well, right? Serana looked wary, especially after they passed a booth where she was certain there was a corpse.

But Tristane was doing it, and she could trust her, she was certain of that. 'Bottoms up, then.' The soft clang of the small bottles hitting each other as they cheered without another word and downed the liquid.

What an experience that was, something entirely indescribable for Tristane, as she was able to see, or so she thought. But it was nothing more than a hallucination as she groaned softly, waking up groggily. 'What..' She could hear Serana, but she could also hear more than that. A vampire, she could tell, was discussing how they were using Skooma to create more thralls. Did they not see their robes? How they were that of the court of Lord Harkon himself? Did he not notice her appearance, as she was already known as the new ling that gained Harkon's favor by returning Serana and the elder scroll?

Despicable, low life, son of a…

He was going to die, a slow and painful death, /that/ she was certain about. They were even foolish enough to not strip them of their weapons, really, what kind of idiots were these people? They left, probably tending to other matters that befitted their small minded minds, as she produced a lock pick from one of the small pouches hidden under her dress. She placed it in the lock, using nothing but the sound of the scraping metal and soft clicks to find out how to pick this lock.

After one broken lock pick, it was finally done and the door swung open. Tristane's head nodded to Serana, who gave a soft hum of approval, and the two, crouched low, started making their way through the Skooma den.

It only took them half an hour, before they were surrounded on each side in a narrow corridor by vampires, Serana and Tristane's back to each other, both holding up their weapons as Tristane huffed softly. They would be able to make it out of this, wouldn't they?

But that question is already answered as a fire bolt rushed past the two vampires, hitting one of their enemies straight in the face, engulfing him completely. 'You morons really thought you could drug me like that?' A high elf, by the sound of it, they had a certain sound, certain accent to their voices along with that typical arrogance that perhaps wasn't even a conscious matter.

Regardless of the reasons as to why, the enemy of an enemy was a friend. Tristan's bow was quick to draw another arrow, pulling it back on the string and down another vampire went. But she hated being indebted to anyone, and her chance came relatively quick as the high elf female was just about to be slashed open with a sword from an enemy vampire, as her arrow hit the moron straight in the back of the head, piercing through his skull and right into his brain, dropping dead instantly. A nod from the high elf, her magic all over the place as in the end they were victorious.

'You two were drugged as well?' Her voice interrupted the sound of the dying vampires around them as Serana and Tristane both nodded. 'Yes, we came here for something else, but in the end were drugged with a free sample of Skooma.' 'Oh? And why did you come here?' Her voice questioning, uncertain. Tristane figured the elf was worried their quests would be the same. 'A chalice' But the soft sigh of relief the elf tried to hide was picked up by Tristane.

'Ah, I see. I came here for a trinket that can be found a bit further on.' The two vampires both nodded, but Tristane's hand was held out. 'Tristane, member of the court of Lord Harkon' which brought some surprise to the high elf, but she took the hand nevertheless, noticing the cold of it. 'Merandil, mage of the College of Winterhold.' A nod and a shake of their hands, 'Let us proceed.' As Tristane led them through the corridors, the three of them joining in arms as they slaughtered vampire after vampire. Not to mention the Death Hounds, even though Tristane was secretly sad about that, such a pity they didn't have the luck to be part of Harkon's court, they would of lived longer.

Another half an hour passed, before it was finally before them. The bloodspring!

Tristane approached it, kneeling down low to fill the chalice with the contents, before packing it all up carefully in leather, tightly to make sure the contents wouldn't spill to badly. Thus the reason she filled it all the way to the rim.

'Your trinket?' Tristane asked Merandil as she nodded a few times, approaching one of the rotting skeletons that were laying around the spring. She crouches by it, taking a necklace off of one. 'Here it is.' And stuffed it away inside a pouch in her rather skimpy dress. Tristane was about to lead them out agan, until she heard a door opening, the exit. Why was someone there? Her bow unsheathed, another enemy? But no, she recognized them, somewhat from the court, even though they have never actually met. 'Salonia, Stalf?' Serana, sounding surprised to see the two here. 'It's really too bad, you know. The little accident you had here, completely unexpected' Salonia began, 'Yeah, too bad. Lord Harkon's new favorite, dead so soon after joining the family' Stalf chimed in, both their intentions already clear. 'We're just lucky I was here to return the Chalice to Vingalmo, so he could make sure Harkon gets it back' Salonia continued. 'Wait, what? That's not what we agreed. We take it back together' Stalf, sounding surprised at his companion's words. ' Idiot. You didn't really think I'd let you walk out of here either, did you? Vingalmo wants you both dead' Her voice sounding as self-confident and arrogant as she was probably feeling right now. 'Well that's just fine. Orthjolf told me to finish off anyone who got in the way' Sounding smug now, the two seemingly haven forgotten all about the three that were facing them. But at least they were smart enough to attack together, instead of each other first.

But it was three against two now, with all of them having mage capabilities. Serana was quick to summon up a ward that nullified the magic the two were throwing at them. Tristane pulled back an arrow on her bow, aiming for Stalf, as Merandil summoned up her magicka in her right hand, creating an impressive fire ball. The two females released their attack at the same time. The arrow hit Stalf right in the heart, dropping him right to the ground. But the cold High Elf seemed to have a little of a sadistic streak in her as she fired her magic at Salonia, who caught fire and started screaming as she dropped to the ground, wailing in pain as the scent of burned flesh mingled with the bloody water of the spring.

'Idiots.' Tristane muttered, as the three of them stepped over the still screaming Salonia, who was desperately trying to put the fire out, as well as make a grab for the two vampires and high elf. But alas for her, they were out of the place as quickly as that. Ending up back where they had started, at the booths. 'How did you..?' The lady behind the counter, whom they were facing in this moment never saw the dagger coming as Tristane easily slipped it in that soft spot by the ribs, right to her heart. Now then, only one more enemy was left. Tristane picked the key from the ladies corpse, exiting the barred counter as they headed for the exit. Opening the door they came face to face with the guard there. But Tristane was finally going to drain him, like she had wanted to at the start. She latched onto him, before her fangs easily sank through his flesh, breaking the skin and allowing his blood to fill her mouth. Serana couldn't help the stare she was giving, her own vampiric desires throbbing inside of her, the hunger for the blood present in her stomach as she gave a soft sigh.

As Tristane pulled back, she allowed the guard to drop to the floor, trying to cling to the last bit of life he had left, but it was already fading from him, giving his last breath as his body stilled. 'Well, that was rather interesting.' Tristane had completely forgotten about Merandil as she had stood there, watching her suck the life out of a man. Tristane turned to her, white eyes trying to determine the location of her face, but the high elf was much taller than her. 'Normally, people would of attacked me.' Tristane's voice told her, coolly as Merandil merely chuckled softly. 'Well, I'm a mage of the College. Everything is interesting to me, and I've always had a favor for the more darker arts.' As she brushed past the white haired vampire, climbing up to exit the hatch again. The two guards there were oblivious to what has happened downstairs as Tristane turned to Serana. 'Go ahead.' 'But-''I know you are hungry, Serana.' As the female sighed softly, glancing away, perhaps a little ashamed. 'I'm jealous of how you so easily accept yourself like this, Tris.' As Tristane merely gave a brief nod. 'One has to accept themselves.' 'Couldn't agree more.' Merandil chimed in as she took a step away.

The screams of the two unsuspecting guards were the thrill of that evening, as Merandil offered them the choice of travelling with her on a small quest.


End file.
